


Just Breakfast

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life, Short!Reader, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Short girl problems + “Are you flirting, or starting a fight?” Morning smut
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 65





	Just Breakfast

If you had your life to do over again, you wouldn’t live with such tall men. 

It wasn’t the monsters or the near-death experiences you wanted to stop. You wanted your bunker-mates to stop unpacking after grocery shopping… on only the top shelves! 

This had to be Sam’s fault. You’d told him multiple times that the sugary definitely-bad-for-you cereal you liked needed to go on a lower shelf. But the only ones ever in your reach were the healthy ones that turned to mush the second you added milk. 

“Dammit, Sam,” you muttered under your breath. Even standing on a chair hadn’t brought your breakfast any closer. Did he put it in the back of the top cabinet? With a growl, you attempted to climb onto the counter. Your bowl skittered to one side, dumping it’s spoon loudly before crashing to smithereens on the floor. 

You were too busy to see Dean rush into the kitchen, gun drawn and half-dressed. You didn’t see his face shift from battle-ready to surprised. Pleasantly surprised. He placed his gun quietly on the counter and stalked over to you. 

When hands grabbed your waist, you squeeked. “Dean! Can you please not do that?” Hastily you pulled down the hem of your sleepshirt. (Terribly oversized, but that wasn’t difficult given your lack of height.) 

He held his hands up with a smirk. “Do you need help, Y/N? Sam hid your cereal again, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. But no, I don’t need your help.” Careful not to show off too much skin, you climbed back onto the countertop. “I am a hunter. A good one. This… isn’t- I can… handle it.”

Damn those long Winchester arms. 

Dean bit back a smirk as you looked over your shoulder with a pout. 

“I can help, but it’s gonna cost you.”

With a sigh, you sat on the counter with your legs dangling over the side. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to be so horny?” Your breath caught as he stepped between your legs. 

“No.”

When you bit your bottom lip, he ran his thumb up your chin to free it from your teeth. 

“I just wanted breakfast,” you moaned. 

He nuzzled his nose along your jawline. “You can still have it.” With you trapped between the cabinets and his chest, Dean reached up and easily plucked the cardboard box from the back of the shelf. His torso was bare, showing off the hunter-honed soft muscles and freckled skin. And pressing his chest into your nose to overwhelm you with his closeness. “Here.” Those green eyes, dancing with faux-innocence, placed the box into your lap. When you didn’t reach for another bowl, he tilted his head. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You whined in the back of your throat as his hands slid up and down your thighs. His thumbs caught at the sides of your underwear. But he did nothing to remove them. You couldn’t decide if that was good or not. Again, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. 

As he stepped back, you snagged the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Dean froze, never breaking eye contact with you. 

Gently, you tugged him back between your legs. Then you let the waistband snap against his skin. 

“Are you flirting, or starting a fight?” Dean smirked and leaned in nose-to-nose with you. 

You smirked back. “I dunno. Which one ends up with you fucking me right here and now?”

He shook his head. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to be so horny?” 

Before you could reply his lips were on yours, sweetly sending your thoughts far away. You arched into his torso. Dean was always so warm. Each breath between you alternated how much skin was able to touch that warm. In the gaps, your skin broke out into goosebumps. Your nipples peaked under your shirt. Dean’s stomach contracted under your fingertips. He hissed into your mouth as your nails lightly dragged against his skin. 

“You are trying to fight,” he murmured against your lips. “Hmm. We’ll have to do something about that.”

Tight grips wrapped around your wrists. With gentle maneuvering, he held your wrists in one hand behind your back. You had nowhere to go as Dean mouthed at your nipples over your. Between the rub of the fabric, and the hotness of his mouth, your neediness for more had increased tenfold. He answered you by snaking a hand under your shirt to your panties. You bucked into his touch. When he pulled his fingers away, his fingertips were shiny with your arousal. 

Dean hummed around those fingers. “It never takes much with you, does it?”

“Please-”

More maneuvering made it possible for him to tug off your panties, leaving you open to the morning air. And to his gaze. You squirmed on the countertop. Dean tugged back on your wrists and leaned down between your legs, restricting your movement. His nose lightly skimmed over your lower tummy. 

You gasped with the first flattening of his tongue. A minute later, you moaned half a step below a scream as he started to thrust his tongue. No, it never did take much with you. Already you were wet enough that he was drinking you instead of preparing you. That didn’t stop him from alternating nosing your slit and sucking harshly on it to make you keen. Your first orgasm of the morning was rapidly approaching. Dean knew it from the way your thighs shivered shut around his head, and from the pitch of your whine. 

“Not yet.”

Dean stood up. He watched you writhe in denial like a smug cat watching a bird before th pounce. He kissed you deeply before you could argue with him. When you whimpered into his mouth, he smiled against your lips. Dean deepened the kiss to blur your senses completely. Blinded so, you didn’t notice his sweatpants sliding down, or his cock lying ready for you until he was slowly pushing it past your lower lips. 

The fill of him was delightful. Your eyes crossed with the drag against your earlier denial. Instead of giving it back to you, Dean sheathed himself, then stilled until you had composed yourself well enough to look him in the eye. Eye contact made, he began your slow torture. 

Nothing was fast enough. You were so full. Every thrust stole your breath. Your mouth hung open, panting and pleading his name. He picked up the pace… just barely. After this, you were going to need another morning shower. His skin was flushed and shimmering with sweat. Wisps of hair plastered to your own forehead. And still he barely moved. 

“Please, Dean. Need you. Almost… so close… please-”

He kissed you messily. “Asking so nicely. My good girl.”

Finally. 

Through one orgasm, then another, he fucked you hard. Your body shuddered and your shoulders were pinned to the cabinets. This is what you wanted. This is what he wanted. One and the same. Each other. Like this. Sticking to one another. Hearing each other’s grunting and sighs. The closeness and desire of it all. 

Dean’s breath stuttered. His head lolled to lay on your shoulder. One, two more thrusts and he stilled again. This time he stilled deep inside you while his release filled you. His thumb flicked over your clit, making you see stars, until he was sure your body wouldn’t let a single drop escape onto the counter when he pulled out. It didn’t. 

Lazily he kissed you again, guiding your wrists to cross again, but around his neck. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you hummed back.

You were had just settled into hugging him with s sigh when Sam walked in. He took in the broken bowl, your panties on the floor, and Dean slotted between your thighs. He recoiled and turned on his heel. Sam stomped down the hall. “I just wanted breakfast!”

You both waited until he was a safe distance away before descending into a fit of giggles. 


End file.
